When my mom passed, there were a million things she would never get to do but only the big ones seemed to matter – she’d never see me make something of myself, she’d never meet the man I love or make my wedding dress, she’d never hold my kids or teach them silly campfire songs.
Now, a few decades later, with losing my dad, it’s the little things that dig in. I can’t help but wonder who’s going to pester me about how many words I’ve written? Who do I text to brag when I get my picky boy to eat something new? One of the worst has been final Jeopardy honestly. It was a little bit of a competition between us and to give credit, he was far more often right than I, but it was fun and silly and now it’s gone. I neverwill get to do any of those things again. He neverwill respond or pat me on the head or tell me what’s wrong with a particular plotline (or what’s right with it too).
I think with all the things going on right now, all the little transitions that are going on in my life, I’m feeling those holes in my life a little more today. I would give anything to show my mom what I’m working on using the techniques she taught me. I think my dad would be hugely proud of me for taking some of the steps I’ve taken recently with getting myself out there. I’m just missing them both pretty hard today and all the neverwills are squawking at me.
They’re terribly icky shadowbirds those neverwills.